How do you get back into blogging when you have been on a no blog/social media sabadicle for 7 months? No really...I'm asking.
I've been waffling back and forth on how to write this post - do I make a timeline of every single crazy, happy, bizarre, upsetting, stressful, joyful event that has happened since my last post? Do I pretend like I never left and jump right on in with design?
I figured there’s got to be a middle ground and as I stood soaking in the shower last night, mind wandering, it came to me. How old am I?
In the shower last night, exhausted, muscles aching from chasing children, holding children, walking children and running upstairs to check on children - I randomly thought - I am 33, right? Wait...am I? Or am I 32? What is this house and how did I get here? I'm like a living, breathing example of the Talking Head's song Once in a Lifetime.
And then I literally had to DO THE MATH on my own age.
Please try to control your BAHAHAHA’s, cackles and crying face emojis.
But it is true - I had to do the math on my own age and it turns out I’m still only 32. Phew, and then dancing girl emoji. But then I fell down the rabbit hole of thoughts starting with “I’m not young anymore”.
This is a strange thought to have and for me it’s the first of its kind (though I assure you not its last). I'm not so much feeling physically old as I am more saying goodbye to the life I once had - said life where I thought maybe I might’ve even been hip.
It's official. We’ve got two kids and we’ve left our urban life in Cali and moved to the Houston suburbs.
Life is all about builder-grade, masterplanned communities, good schools, SUV’s [still in denial over minivans], and corporate restaurant franchises that in my California hippie mind chew up and spit out local businesses for fun (Damn the Man!).
I have hardly any regular clothes because 85% of my wardrobe is considered a mom uniform - black yoga pants, sports bras and a workout tees. Do I workout every day? Of course not - I have two kids. They are the workout.
My life is suddenly so different. You think when you have your first kid, “Oh no, its official! We’re in a new life stage!” And yes, that's technically true, but you can still tell yourself you’re going to be the cool parents.
The parents who take their baby to outdoor music concerts [with baby ear protection of course]. The parents who visit wineries and breweries with the baby in the ergo. The parents who still want to “have a life”.
By the time that second kiddo comes along, you’re like, fuck it. Who’s got time to be cool? Who’s got time to stop and smell the roses? To live spontaneously?
Hell no! I need my home to run like a well-oiled machine. I need a rigorous routine that perfectly toes the line of predictability and flexibility in anticipation of the kids' every need. I need clothes that move with me; that I never have to think twice about unless I’m checking for spit-up stains. I need a car that can hold my kids and their obscene amount of stuff that I have so carefully curated into ten different bags. I need space where my children can run and play and I don’t have to fret every minute over crime in the area.
I understand this is just my perspective and it has been hugely influenced by the fact that we not only had our second baby, but also moved across the country.
So as I came to the realization last night about my age, I looked around while still in shower and there it was - the notorious head-slapping moment that usually comes after my mind’s been wandering - identity crisis! I'm having an identity crisis!
And whenever an identity crisis rears its confusing and ugly head, the one thing you should always do is take a deep breath and…
START WITH WHAT YOU KNOW.
This is what I know
I love to feed people - ain't nothing gonna drag me away from my Le Creuset 7-quart dutch oven.
I am a creative entrepreneur at heart no matter how many times I try (or others) to squash the desire like a bug.
I love places and things with history, character or a story which is why I am so in love with old architecture.
I consider my home a place of comfort, love and self-expression so it's imperative that I work on its design and layout until I'm blue in the face.
No matter how great of a mom I am, I will never do things the exact same way my mom did/does and that's okay.
Being creative is still an essential part of my being and my favorite ways will always be photography, writing and design.
I'm way more comfortable being in public without makeup than I ever was in my twenties.
I'm still itching for that wave tattoo though I'm feeling a little nervous to take the plunge.
I love my girls and Drew more than anything in world and moving to the burbs was the right decision for our family.
In the end, I realize my insecurities lie in the fact that I dont want to look like or be like the woman to the left and right of me.
There is nothing wrong with the women to my left and right; I simply want to be my own person even if that means being different [which is a good thing!].
I want to be me and all that makes me unique even if that seems weird to others. And the truth is, the “others” I refer to - they’re probably not even paying attention to me because they’re too busy thinking these same things about themselves.
So now... where is that nearest car lot with the minivans because I’ve got kids to haul to soccer practice.